Missing Pieces
by briroch
Summary: When Mike wakes up after having been in a car accidents his memory is slightly muddled, but he knows one thing for sure. Steve was in the car with him, though nobody seems to believe him. Where is Steve and who is behind it all?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **Thank you, Tanith 2011 for your never ending patience beta-ing my stories, and a big thank you to all the ladies from the SOSF writer's group for your encouragement. An extra bit of "hurt" thrown in for Dublin Writer..._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, I merely use them for fun, not for profit._

_**Missing Pieces**_

_**Chapter 1**_

The bright lights hurt his eyes when he tentatively tried to open them, so he decided to keep them shut for the time being, while taking stock of the various discomforts that spread throughout his body. An infernal pounding assaulted his head, while dull aches and pains could be felt all over. But he came to the conclusion that he would live and determinedly opened his eyes once more. As the bright lights had suggested before, he found himself in a hospital room with not a notion of how he got there. Moving his head was painful, but out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out the outline of some people at his side and was curious to see who was there.

"Don't even try and get up, Mike!" A voice boomed.

_Aha! Rudy Olson, the Captain_. So the fact that he was in the hospital was most probably due to some work related incident. Mike smiled inwardly at his detective skills. He turned his head a fraction more and saw Lenny Murchison, the Department's Consultant Psychiatrist. _Lenny?_ His blood ran cold and the machines and monitors he was hooked up to responded with some frantic beeping. _Lenny?_ That meant bad news! _Someone brought in to break it to you gently._ He was well aware that his injuries were only minor, so this could only mean one thing.

"Where's Steve?" Mike was surprised to hear how weak his voice sounded. He looked around anxiously, hoping to see the slender form of his partner lurking in a corner somewhere.

Olson put a hand on his arm. "Calm down, Mike, we haven't located Steve yet, but we'll haul him here as soon as we can find him."

"What do you mean?" Mike shook off the captain's hand and struggled into a half sitting position.

"Mike, the kid is on leave, driving up or down the coast as we speak and we haven't a notion where he is right now. Do you want me to ring Jeannie and get her to come home?"

Mike shook his head vehemently and regretted the movement immediately. "Why would you want to upset Jeannie over a bang on the head?"

Lenny came closer and chuckled. "She wouldn't like it one bit that you won't let us inform her but yet you insist on Steve being dragged away from his holidays!"

"What are you two waffling about? Steve, on vacation? But he was in the car with me when it happened!"

The memories came flooding back now. For whatever reason, he had been in the driver's seat with Steve in the back. Screams, shouts, the car veering, a crash and then nothing.

The beeping reached a new high and brought a doctor and a nurse into the room immediately.

"He was in the car with me! What happened to him?" he kept repeating until the sedative administered into his system sent him into oblivion.

* * *

The next time he came round the situation was very similar. Lenny was still there - or was he there again? Only this time so was Bill Tanner. Mike felt decidedly better, the headache had abated, he was less disorientated and his mind was crystal clear about one thing. Steve had been in the car with him.

"Mike, head injuries, even minor ones, play havoc with your memory. You lose some minutes or hours and sometimes you can even end up with false recollections. Don't worry, Mike, you're in good hands!" Lenny tried to explain.

"I'm not in the least worried about my head, Lenny, I'm worried about Steve. Why wasn't he found in the car? Maybe he was thrown out by the impact…"

"Mike, listen to me…"

"No, you listen to me, Mr. Shrink! I know exactly what I saw and what I heard. I know that Steve was in the backseat of the car when we crashed!"

"Okay, Mike, don't get yourself worked up now. I'll get a nurse." Lenny left the room.

"Bill, you've got to help me. You have to find some shred of evidence that Steve was in the car or they won't start the search. He could be hurt or…" Mike swallowed hard.

Tanner's heart went out to his boss and he said gently, "Mike, Steve's fingerprints will be all over the car. You two are constantly in it."

"This is where you are wrong, my friend! I took the opportunity to clean out all of Steve's mess while he was away. After the scrubbing the car got there shouldn't be any of his fingerprints left in it!" Mike sounded almost smug.

Tanner remembered it clearly now. Mike had been ranting about Steve's sunflower seed shells and candy wrappers that littered the car. He'd ordered a high school student on a work placement program to give the car a thorough cleaning, asking him to "bag all the evidence" before he wiped down the interior of the car. The bags of evidence - or rubbish- were then strategically placed in Steve's desk drawers…

"Sure, Mike, I'll do it if it puts your mind at ease. But you do remember now that Steve was on leave."

"Yes I do!" Mike replied impatiently. "But I also remember that he rang me to come and meet him in Walnut Creek urgently." He stopped and slapped his forehead. "But I can't remember why!"

"It will all come back, don't you worry!" Lenny assured him, when he returned with a doctor in tow.

"Before you knock me out again, let me talk to Bill." Locking eyes on Tanner he continued, "Just do what I asked you to do and come back with the results right away!"

Bill nodded and left the room, before Lenny could persuade him not to follow Mike's instruction. Even a Mike Stone with a bang on the head was a force to be reckoned with.

* * *

When Mike woke up the third time his head was clear and the aches and pains were more or less gone. This time he found Rudy Olson and Bill Tanner at his bedside. Both looked very serious.

"Mike, you were right, Steve's prints were all over the car and they were fresh," Tanner explained.

Mike sat up fast and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "What are we waiting for? We have to go and find Steve. Have you requested a K9 unit yet? I'm sure Steve has some used clothes or spare shoes in his locker at work, otherwise we'll get something from his apartment." He got up and went over to the wardrobe to get dressed.

"Mike, there is something else you should know. There are other fingerprints in the car, but they belong to a dead man…"

The detective stopped in his tracks. "What do you mean? I may be a bit slower on the uptake than usual, but dead men normally don't leave fingerprints in cars prior to it being involved in an accident!"

"We came to the same conclusion, Mike. The prints belong to a certain Angelo Ianelli. "

"The Fallen Angel?" Mike alluded to the nickname of a well-known mobster, who died in a fire two years ago and had been identified through dental charts. Mike remembered the case well, as he and Steve had investigated the possibility of arson and murder.

"Rudy, the Fallen Angel will have to wait, we need to find Steve first! Bill, you get on to the department and put some men on the job of digging up the dirt on Angelo's alleged death and the identification that was made. I'll join you as soon as we have found Steve!" Mike struggled with the collar button of his shirt before he grabbed his jacket and blue raincoat then headed for the door.

"Mike!" Olson interjected. "I think you are rushing things a bit…"

"Rushing things? The boy must have been out there for ages while you lot kept me under sedation here!" Mike fumed.

"No, I mean, shouldn't you put your shoes on first?" Olson pointed at Mike's feet in hospital slippers.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

A short time later Mike and Olson were in a car, travelling towards the scene of the accident outside Lafayette. The thirty minute drive appeared like an eternity to Mike. Rudy Olson seemed to read his mind. "By the time we acquired a helicopter and have it ready for take-off, we will get there by car just as fast." He tried to reason with his lead homicide detective. "Besides, the local forces will already be out there searching for him and as soon as we get there with Steve's tennis shoes they will use the search dogs."

Mike was less than convinced. When they arrived at the scene of the accident, he had no recollection of what exactly had happened and why the car had veered off the road. Okay, he could remember that Steve had wanted to meet him in Walnut Creek, and this road was the most direct connection between Walnut Creek and San Francisco. Also, this part of the road was probably the most isolated stretch on route. Plenty of woodland area to hide a hostage - or a body. This is where Ianelli came into play. In spite of the mild temperature of the early evening, a shiver ran down his spine. _Oh buddy boy, where was I when you needed me?_

On the way to Lafayette Mike had done his mental calculations and found out that the crash must have happened over twenty-four hours ago. Twenty- four hours in the woods, injured and bleeding. Twenty-four hours alone while he was kept sedated in a hospital in San Francisco, when nobody believed him….

A voice brought him back to reality. "Sir, I think the dogs have found a scent!"

Mike followed the barking and sniffing dogs over the rough terrain, through undergrowth and weaving around trees with Rudy Olson at his heels, urging him to take it easy.

Mike knew that after a bang on the head he was not as fit as he should be but he plodded on, fuelled by worry and adrenaline until he saw the dogs eventually stop beneath a tall tree. There was definitely something there. _A bundle of clothes - or a twisted body?_ Mike ran with renewed energy and left Olson way behind him. He recognised his partner immediately and knelt down next to the still figure. He quickly ran his hands over the bruised and scratched face. His hand rested at the side of the young man's neck and when he felt a pulse, he said a silent prayer of gratitude.

Steve was handcuffed to the tree, arms stretched painfully around the trunk, face pressed against it. One of the dog handlers used his key to unlock the cuffs and together they turned him over gently. Mike noticed a fair amount of dried blood from what appeared to be a head injury, but not a life threatening amount, he hoped. With the assistance of the helpful dog handler, they lifted the limp body of the injured man into a half sitting position, while Mike spread out his raincoat for Steve to lie on and then covered him with his jacket.

"He's…he's alive, Rudy, he's alive!" he stammered when the Captain finally caught up with them.

"Mike, the Paramedics will be here soon and the helicopter. We'll bring him back to San Francisco with us…"

Mike wasn't listening; he concentrated on palpating his friend for injuries. When he touched Steve's shoulder, the young man moaned and stirred. "Sorry, buddy boy, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Mike?" A pair of green eyes opened and Mike was rewarded with a slightly dazed look. "I knew you would come and find me!" Steve's eyes closed again.

"Oh Steve, I'm so sorry it took me so long!"

"S'all right. I'm fine, Mike." The young man's eyes fluttered opened again, just a fraction, trying to focus.

Mike's hand brushed Steve's untidy hair away from his face and dabbed at the clotted blood with his handkerchief. Steve put his hand on Mike's, holding on to him. "Don't fuss, m'all right…" then his eyes closed once more as exhaustion took over.

Mike followed the stretcher to the chopper that had landed in a clearing nearby. It was only when his partner was lifted into the helicopter that he gently prised Steve's fingers open which were still clinging on to his hand. He gave the young man's arm a reassuring pat and whispered, "Just hang in there. I'll come and see you in a little while!"

* * *

The little while turned into a long wait in the end; Steve needed surgery on his shoulder. Initially only dislocated, the ligaments had torn due to the prolonged strain of being cuffed to the tree.

He had also suffered a blow to the head, various cuts and bruises, a particularly vicious one to his throat. He was badly dehydrated and slightly hypothermic. _Sore but alive…_

Olsen and Lenny felt it was their duty to sit with Mike. The man himself sat stony faced and dangerously silent.

"Mike," Olson finally opened the conversation. "I know you are mad at us and I don't blame you, but…"

Mike's anger dissipated as relief that his partner was safe and exhaustion overcame him. He sighed then silenced Olsen with a quick wave of his hand. "Nah, Rudy, you're okay. I suppose it was an unlikely story and I probably didn't get it across coherently either."

"Now, Mike, don't blame yourself!" Lenny chided.

Mike looked up, a fierce expression suddenly appeared on his face when realization dawned on him that there was indeed someone to blame for his partner's condition. Then, like a jigsaw puzzle, the pieces were beginning to fall into place as the memory of that fateful drive came back to him. "Oh no, it's that ruthless bastard I blame. Chaining a man with an injured shoulder to a tree. That's torture. Wait until I get my hands on him! And didn't the soft hearted boy insist that we cuffed the guy with his hands in front of him to make him more comfortable on the drive? That's what he got for his kindness."

"Mike, what happened in the car?" Lenny immediately grasped at the opportunity to draw the facts from Mike as he started regaining his memory.

Mike rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "I can still only remember parts of it. I know we had him in the car and were bringing him in for identification and all of a sudden there was a noise and then a commotion broke out in the back, where he and Steve were sitting. I saw he had Steve in a head lock, the chain of the handcuffs round his throat, so I had to stop the car. I think he let go of Steve and went for me instead. Then we crashed…"

"Mike, how did you come across Ianelli?"

"I don't remember; it was something funny that Steve noticed, but all I know is, it made perfect sense at the time."

The conversation was interrupted by a nurse entering the waiting room.

"Are you Lieutenant Stone? Inspector Keller is just coming around and he's asking for you. You might want to come in and see him for a few minutes…"

What Mike found was a very pale looking, completely disorientated Steve, with his left arm immobilised in a sling.

"Hi, Mike!" he grinned weakly and tried to sit up.

"Oh no, buddy boy, you stay put. If you don't behave, I'm sure the nurse will throw me out immediately. How are you feeling?"

"M'fine." Steve's voice still sounded very raspy.

Mike smiled indulgently. "Of course you are, buddy boy. Let me get you a drink of water."

Steve took a sip through the straw that Mike brought close to his lips and swallowed painfully. It was only then that the older man realised how much damage had been done to his friend's throat and how narrowly he had escaped a worse fate. Mike felt anger flaring up from deep within, red hot anger and for a fleeting moment all he wished for was to get his hands around Ianelli's throat.

"You okay?" Steve croaked and looked at him with unease. Steve's eyes were glued to the dressing on his friend's forehead.

Mike forced himself to relax his balled fists, but his smile was genuine. "Of course I am."

But before he could elaborate, Steve continued, "Was a bit worried, you know. He said you were dead and then he had your cuffs and your .38…" he dry swallowed and winced.

Just as his mentor's rage reached a new height, the door opened and a different nurse walked in briskly, holding a clip-board. The momentary diversion helped Mike to get his emotions in check again.

"It's time to check your vital signs, Steve!" she announced cheerfully and noted pulse, temperature and blood pressure dutifully.

"Can I go home now?" the reluctant patient pleaded and the nurse laughed merrily.

"That brings me to my next part of the assessment. Now, Steve, what day is it?"

Steve was stumped and looked at Mike for help. The friendly nurse gently but firmly shook her head.

"What year?"

Again Steve looked at his mentor for guidance. "The year is still the same as it was before, isn't it?" he asked tentatively.

The nurse laughed good-naturedly. "Just one last question. Do you think your mental capacity has returned to normal yet?"

Steve nodded vigorously and flinched.

Once more the nurse chuckled and turned to Mike. "Well, I hope not!"

Mike joined in the banter and replied, "Nah, normally he is a little bit sharper than that! But I have great hopes for his recovery; he's got a hard skull!"

"I guess so, especially after he gets some rest." She looked at Mike pointedly. He reluctantly got up from the chair at the bedside and gave Steve's good arm a final pat.

Steve, who had been at the point of dozing off, looked around in a panic. "No, Mike you can't go! It took you so long to find me the last time…"

"It's alright, maybe the nice nurse will let me stay a little bit longer until you are asleep. How about that?"

What could the nice nurse do but give in?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

The next morning Mike Stone arrived at the Bureau a little later than usual, but apart from a small dressing on his forehead he was no worse for wear. He greeted Lenny and Olson, who were both eager to hear any news on Steve.

"He had a very restless night, but when I left him he was asleep at last…" Mike watched in amazement as Rudy Olson opened his hand and Lenny passed him a dollar.

"We had a bet going." The Captain felt obliged to explain. "I had my money on you staying with Steve overnight. Lenny's wager was that the nurse would kick you out."

In one swift movement, Mike palmed the bill and pocketed it. "Both of you are wrong! Try as she might, the nurse couldn't shift me, as I was technically still a patient. I must have forgotten to sign the release papers. By the way, I'll use the money to get Steve some grapes or sunflower seeds or whatever you bring people in a hospital. Technically, Rudy owes me a dollar too…" He held out his hand for the second dollar bill.

Mike grew serious again and began sorting through the files that Tanner had left on his desk.

"I know that you and Steve worked the case. Was there any doubt about the identity of Ianelli?" Olson asked as he handed a dollar bill to his senior detective.

"The height of the body found seemed to be consistent with Ianelli's. There was little left of the body, but the dental charts were good for a positive ID."

"How come the body was so badly burned?"

"Our man Angelo used to be a bit of a car buff. He had a store of gas jerry cans in his garage. That's where the fire started. Oh, we were suspicious alright. The missus was conveniently out of the house, the body was charred beyond recognition and the forensic examination yielded very little. There definitely was smoke inhalation…" Mike leafed through the old file. "Now this is interesting. Tanner dug this up yesterday. The dentist retired shortly after the coroner's report was finalized and lived comfortably ever-after… Maybe he should be my first port of call."

"You reckon Ianelli faked his own death? But why would he decide to return after laying low for two years? Has anything changed in his live? Why would he take the risk now? Anything going on within the mob or in his family?" Lenny thought out loud.

"Rudy, the man deserves what we pay him. Let's see if we can find out something about the Ianelli clan. I'll get Healy to check it out. Anyone want coffee while I'm out there?"

Mike returned after a short time, balancing three mugs of coffee, which he placed on his desk. When he lifted his cup to his lips, a shadow crossed his face. "Did you know that in the course of the night as a reaction to the strain, Steve's other shoulder seized up as well? He couldn't as much as lift a coffee cup this morning." His own motion froze as he spoke and the normally warm blue eyes turned to ice.

"Mike, how is he coping after what he went through?" Lenny asked with concern.

It took Mike a moment to come back to reality and he was a little embarrassed. "Hard to tell, Lenny. He was completely loopy after the anaesthetic last night and did a few out of character things…" Mike didn't know whether to laugh or to cry when he thought about the long night in the hospital. "That's why they normally ban visitors from bothering patients in recovery." Lenny was clearly still smarting from losing the bet.

"Now, Lenny, even the nurse on duty had to admit after a while that he was easier to handle when I was around." There was a hint of pride in Mike's voice.

Rudy winced. "Please, Mike, spare the kid the indignity and _don't_ tell us what he did or said!"

Mike grinned and some of the tension left his face. "Maybe you're right Rudy, but I will store it all in my memory for future reference!" He tapped the side of his head with his index finger.

The door opened and Healy poked his head in. "Mike, we found out that Ianelli's mother had a stroke and has been in General hospital for a couple of days. She hasn't got long to live, it seems."

Mike jumped up. "That would certainly explain why Angelo decided to resurface all of a sudden. Maybe we'll pay his mother a visit." He grew serious again. "I don't like the idea of a member of the Ianelli clan anywhere near Steve, least of all in a hospital! Rudy, we need plain clothes cops to stake out the room where Ma Ianelli is in and we need someone guarding Steve's room round-the-clock, too. Do our resources stretch that far?"

The Captain nodded and said reassuringly, "I'll see to it, Mike. We'll have a roster in place soon." He grinned. "For how many shifts sitting with Steve do you want me to pencil you in?"

Mike didn't reply, he grabbed his hat and coat and headed for the car.

* * *

When he arrived at the hospital, Mike had intended to bypass the area where Steve's room was located and head straight for Mrs Ianelli's room, but the nurse who had taken over in Steve's ward that morning before Mike had left, must have spotted him and came running after him, calling him back.

Mike stopped in his tracks. "Is Steve alright?"

The young woman seemed upset and flustered. "Oh, Lieutenant Stone, we need to see you straight away! Something's happened!"

Mike grabbed her shoulders and looked into her face. "What's the matter? Is Steve okay?"

"Oh, he's alright, but such a thing has never occurred here before!"

Although Mike understood that the nurse was confused and upset, he was losing his cool. "Take a deep breath and tell me what the hell is going on!"

"If it hadn't been for the orderly going in with fresh bed linen…"

By the time they had reached Steve's room Mike was none the wiser.

The room looked like a battlefield. There were bedclothes and pillows strewn all over the floor. All the items that Mike had carefully arranged on top of the locker in the morning within easy reach for Steve were on the floor, too, some of them smashed. The water pitcher must have hit the bed on its way down and the top sheet was drenched. A doctor and a nurse were busy with a protesting and struggling Steve. _He's alright, so…_ As long as Steve resisted treatment, Mike knew he didn't have to worry.

"Now, everybody stop and listen to me! What happened?" he boomed.

"Some guy tried to suffocate me with a pillow!" Steve blurted out. "But I'm alright. I managed to kick him where it hurts."

"Tom walked in and ran after the guy. He was wearing surgical scrubs…" The nurse added.

"Okay. I'll just go and make a phone call. I'll be back in two minutes and then I want the whole story from a roomful of calm and collected people. You hear me, Steve?" He fleetingly touched the side of Steve's face and ran towards the telephone at reception. He knew there was little chance in apprehending the culprit, but at least they could get some units out to search the vicinity of the hospital for a man doubled over in pain…


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

When Mike returned, the room looked once more like a hospital room rather than a crime scene.

"No, I don't need a sedative; I just need to talk to Mike!" Steve protested loudly and waved the syringe away. "Can we talk about that later? I really need to get the story straight now and I need everybody's help with that," he reasoned calmly.

All present nodded in silent agreement. Mike commiserated inwardly, as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "First of all, is Steve alright? Was he hurt in any way?" He looked in the direction of the hospital staff questioningly.

The young doctor spoke first. "He was lucky, I guess. The stitches are holding up well enough, though he was meant to keep the arm immobilised."

"And let him suffocate me, or what?" Steve remarked belligerently.

"You be quiet now. The doctor is just making a statement." Mike grasped Steve's forearm in an attempt to calm him down. Maybe the doctor was right and Steve was too high on adrenaline, but he desperately needed to talk to his partner about more things concerning Ianelli. He couldn't really afford to wait for another couple of hours for the effects of a sedative to wear off.

Slowly but surely the whole story emerged: Steve had been awake, but had kept his eyes closed when he heard the door opening. He just hadn't felt like talking to yet another hospital staff member and hoped a sleeping patient would be left in peace. To his surprise he then felt the pillow being yanked from under his head and pressed against his face. He lashed out, trying to connect with his assailant or at least create some noise. More or less, at the same time, his foot connected with the man's , the orderly, had then entered the room with supplies. He went after the assailant as soon as he had raised the alarm in the room and alerted Security, but the figure had disappeared around a corner and couldn't be found.

"Any description at all?" Mike was a bit disheartened.

Steve shook his head. "Scrubs, a face mask and a cap that covered all his hair. Dark eyes, that's all I can say for sure!"

Tom could only add that the height of the person was about average. Not very distinctive or helpful either!

In the meantime a search of the hospital had only yielded the abandoned disguise, hidden in a bin in a bathroom. Tanner stuck his head in. "Sorry, Mike, we've canvassed visitors and staff, but nothing conclusive. There is one thing you should know, though, Ianelli's mother died earlier this morning!"

"Thanks, Bill, I really didn't expect too much. Who would notice a man in surgical garb rushing along a hospital corridor? And who would notice a man doubled over with pain in a hospital? Our man is clever, but we'll get him! With the mother dead we will have to move fast, he might not linger in town after the funeral."

Mike felt awful when he thought that the delay in getting protection for Steve had almost cost him his life. Finding Ianelli and putting an end to all this was getting more pressing by the minute. Mike stepped outside the room to have a few words with Bill Tanner in private about taking further actions. But there was no way he would leave the hospital unless water tight security measures for Steve were in place.

* * *

A quarter of an hour later the hospital room was quiet at last. The water soaked bedclothes had been replaced and order had been restored. Steve was propped up comfortably, drinking a cup of sweet tea with Mike's help. The combined influential powers two of them had, had persuaded the doctor that a hot drink would be far more beneficial than a sedative.

"Are you sure you want to talk, buddy boy? Maybe you should really take a nap now." In spite of the urgent need for information from Steve, Mike was more concerned about his protégé's well-being. He found that his partner, in spite of his protests, looked the worse for wear.

"Stop fussing, Mike! Do you really think I could sleep when I'm still buzzing with adrenaline?"

"That's what I mean; you should be resting and not reliving all this…" Mike cautioned.

"…says the man who forever urges me not to bottle up emotions inside and to talk to him!" Steve retorted.

Mike had to admit that Steve appeared rather upbeat. Besides, he really needed to get Steve's side of the story.

"Alright then, let's talk, but promise that you'll tell me when it's getting too much for you. Deal?"

Steve nodded.

"Now, what you need to know is that I haven't got a complete recollection of what happened before the accident. There are some blanks I haven't been able to fill." Mike explained and fingered the dressing on his forehead.

Steve's eyes narrowed. "Mike, to be honest, I haven't even started trying to piece everything back together. Everything that happened leading up to the accident is a bit of a jumble in my mind. Sorry…"

"That's alright. I'm sure that between us, we'll get it sorted out." Mike didn't dare to mention how little he actually remembered himself.

"Okay, Steve, let's start. How did you end up in Walnut Creek? I thought you were heading somewhere else." That question had been bugging Mike for a long time.

Steve rubbed his forehead. "I was, Mike. I think I told you that I had just planned to go driving up the coast but I had actually intended to drop in on Nancy…" Here the narrative stopped.

Mike remembered Nancy Mellon well, a feisty young woman who had got friendly with Steve while trying to get away from a trio of killers that pursued them through the forest. Mike was a bit surprised, as he had been under the impression that the relationship had run its natural course.

"And how is Nancy?" Mike asked curiously.

"Extremely well and busy with the new love of her life." Steve sounded a bit disappointed.

"It's none of my business, but I didn't think it was an exclusive relationship, at least not from what I observed …" Mike couldn't help but saying.

"I suppose so, but…" Steve was hesitant to admit.

Mike felt sorry for him all the same and patted his hand. "It hurts just as much, I know. But now back to our business at hand. What did you do next?"

"I went further up north for a day but didn't really enjoy it, then I decided to turn back and cut my vacation short. Near Sacramento I stopped at a roadside café, trying to make up my mind whether to head straight home or go to Tahoe for a few days or swing by Modesto. It was in a phone booth of the café when I noticed this guy who reminded me of someone. But it seemed so unbelievable." Steve's narrative once again came to a pause.

"Why was that?" Mike prompted.

Steve fell silent for a while and then, very tentatively came out with: "Because he was someone I had thought was dead."

Mike nodded in encouragement. "Ianelli?"

Steve thought for a moment. "Yeah….. Mike, I guess you remember him?"

Mike sighed. "I know it was Ianelli for sure, because his fingerprints were in the car. My memory is still a bit hazy there."

Steve looked doubtful. "I didn't recognize him straight away, so something about his appearance must have changed."

"A little cosmetic surgery? Dyed hair? Glasses?" The older detective probed.

Steve nodded, eyes closed, trying to visualize through his sketchy memory what he had seen. He shook his head, frustrated. "Sorry Mike, I really can't remember."

"Don't worry about it, buddy boy, neither can I. Maybe we can get one of our specialists to alter his face on the mug shot in various ways. That might ring a bell for either one of us. You don't recall by any chance what funny little thing it was that made you ring me and ask me to come and have a look myself?"

"Sorry, but all I remember is that my suspicion was strong enough to follow him. When he stopped again in Walnut Creek to make a phone call I…," the younger man giggled. "I let the air out of his tires! And then I bribed the mechanic across the road to drag his feet fixing it so you had a chance to come out and meet me!"

Mike wagged a finger at him and laughed. "I will certainly not remember that, my boy!"

"Not very legal, but efficient." Steve admitted.

Mike noticed that the young man was beginning to look worn out and decided to leave it at that. "Why don't you get some rest now. You might remember more later on," he suggested gently.

"Maybe for a few minutes…," Steve conceded sleepily.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

Mike waited until he was sure that Steve was fast asleep before he tiptoed out of the room. A uniformed policeman sat outside the door and Mike double checked that he had a copy of the short list of visitors that were allowed to enter the room. "And make sure the hospital staff have their photo ID!" he cautioned.

His first port of call was the Bureau, where he quickly filled in his colleagues on the attempt to suffocate Steve in hospital and the security matters he had put in place. Then he got to work with a sketch artist who proceeded to alter Ianelli's face by changing various facial features, the way a cosmetic surgeon might have been paid to do. Mike watched, but none of the resulting pictures rang a bell. He rubbed his tired eyes and willed his sluggish brain to make a connection with any of the sketches, but he had absolutely no recollection of meeting someone in Walnut Creek or what the person he had in the car looked like. If only he could remember! Oh, he remembered alright what Ianelli did to Steve… Once more he felt his stomach tense up with rage and his fingers tightened their hold on the wooden pencil until it snapped with a loud crack, which brought him back to reality. He got up, fixed himself a quick cup of coffee and looked around the bull pen. His eyes rested on Bill Tanner, who was reading through a file. "Bill, are you busy right now or could you come for a ride with me?" he asked.

"Any excuse to get away from this for a while, Mike," Bill readily agreed and slammed the file shut. "Where are we heading, Mike?"

"I was thinking about leaning on the Dentist for a bit. Maybe the good Doctor Morrissey will crumble like a rotten tooth when we confront him with the resurrection of Angelo Ianelli. You drive and I'll try and get some shuteye. It seems like a long time ago since I last got some sleep."

While Tanner negotiated the car through the evening rush hour, Mike enjoyed a short respite from the demands of the ongoing investigation. His colleague was rather reluctant to disturb his sleep when they arrived at the luxurious residence of the retired dentist.

"Should have gone to Dental School!" Tanner remarked as he got out of the car and looked over the property with admiration.

"Maybe you should have done the Mob a favour, instead…" Mike suggested and stretched his stiff muscles. "Come on. Let's see if our man is home and receiving."

After ringing the doorbell and knocking on the front door for what seemed to be a long time, the two men decided to take a different course of action. Mike stayed at the front door, watching it, while the younger man walked around the house, trying to get a glimpse through the windows. He returned with a grim face. "Sorry, Mike, It seems someone else beat us to it, unless the doctor topped himself in a rather awkward way…"

Mike cursed under his breath. _Was he losing it? Had he been too preoccupied with Steve to do his job properly? He should have gone to interview Morrissey as soon as he heard about Ianelli's prints in the car… Did he let his emotions get in the way of the job?_

Tanner returned after radioing for a crime scene team. He looked grim. "I should have come here the moment I came across his name!" he blamed himself.

"Snap out of it Bill, it was my call, and I didn't follow up on it!"

"No disrespect, Mike, but you are barely out of hospital yourself and you have Steve to watch over. You should be able to rely on all members of your team to use their own initiative!"

Mike sighed. "I certainly do. Honestly, Ianelli is moving faster than I expected. He beat me to Morrissey and to Steve…"

It was only when the Medical Examiner had assessed the body that Mike and Tanner found out how much faster than anticipated Ianelli _had_ moved.

"_Wednesday night?"_ Mike asked incredulously. "We had him in our car on Wednesday afternoon, so he must have made a beeline to the dentist's house after he chained Steve to the tree."

"And eliminated the one person who could blow his cover. It must have rattled him big time that you and Steve recognised him." Tanner concluded. "At least neither you nor I could have prevented it." He felt a weight lifting off his mind.

"We'll have to find out how he made his way here. Hitched a lift? Arranged for a pick up? Where did he find a phone?" Mike thought out loud.

"Maybe we could ask the boys in Lafayette for help there. They know the terrain better than we do, of course."

"Yeah, you do that, Bill. Bernie, when will you have the post-mortem done?" He asked the medical examiner, who looked pointedly at his watch.

"Not today, Mike. Some people have a life and my daughter is performing in a school concert, but I promise I'll do it first thing in the morning unless something with top priority turns up overnight."

"That's good enough for me. What instrument does your daughter play, by the way?"

Bill Tanner persuaded Mike to stop for a quick meal on the way back to the Bureau. He felt that the Lieutenant they all liked and admired was driving himself too hard. He knew that Mike cared deeply about the welfare of all his men, but Steve was special. His protégé, his friend, his partner, his son… The Afro- American Detective could hardly imagine what must be going on in Mike Stone. The mere thought of Ianelli chaining Steve to a tree and leaving him there to die made his own hair stand on end… Both men were very quiet on the way back to the office.

Bill Tanner filled two cups of coffee and brought them over to Steve Keller's desk, where Mike sat slumped on Steve's chair. Rudy Olson came in and joined the two as they recapped their findings.

"No sign of Mrs Morrissey yet. According to the neighbours she left in her car on Wednesday with a suitcase. Healy and Norm are trying to locate her." Bill pointed at the desk in the far corner of the room. "A friendly neighbour, Mrs. Ianelli, gave us a list of her favourite haunts and friends or family she would be likely to visit," Tanner summarised.

"Unless she had some sense and has left the country already," Mike remarked. He yawned as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought to keep his eyes open and his focus on the investigation at hand. "Let's check the airport as well."

"We have surveillance in place at the funeral home and we're taking photos of everybody who enters the building. We'll do the same at the funeral," Tanner resumed.

"One of the photos might jog Steve's memory or even mine." Mike sounded very tired. Rudy watched him with concern.

"All is under control, it seems, so you can go home now and get some proper sleep, my friend!" Olsen suggested.

"I'll do that, but I really need to swing by the hospital first and check on Steve…"

"… who should be sound asleep by now and not to be disturbed. Why don't you ring the hospital instead and ask the Doc how he's doing? Then Bill can drop you home. You can stop at the hospital on your way in tomorrow and start work a bit later," Olson compromised with his long-time colleague.

Mike looked doubtful, but agreed after a phone call to the nurse on duty who strongly advised against disturbing the patient so late in the day.

"Late in the day? It's barely even nine!" the Lieutenant grumbled but gratefully accepted a lift from Bill Tanner.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6**_

When Mike approached Steve's room the following morning, he heard agitated voices once more. He rushed in, but realised at first glance that there was no danger to life or limb, well… at least _not_ immediately. Steve was arguing vehemently with a young nurse who seemed to be at the end of her tether.

"Can I offer my services as a referee in this shouting match?" he asked with a smile. Both contenders fell silent instantly. "What's all this about?"

The flustered looking nurse got her answer in first. "He refuses to take his pain medication!"

"Maybe I can take care of that for you. I'm sure I can overcome any resistance." He fixed Steve with "The Glare" and Steve obediently swallowed the proffered tablets, washing them down with some water from a glass Mike had raised readily to his lips. With a flick of her ponytail the nurse left the room and shut the door behind her with a loud bang.

"You certainly hid your legendary charm well, buddy boy!" Mike joked.

Steve turned his face away.

"And if you were three instead of thirty, I would assume you were sulking," he tried again in an effort to cheer up his friend, or at least get to the bottom of the reason behind his bad mood.

Steve fought back the urge to smile but his partner caught the brief twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Now, that's better. What's eating at you?"

Steve's temper was quick to flare up again. "Do you need to ask? Apart from being cooped up here on my own, completely out of the loop and you siding with the enemy? Not to mention that I was up most of the night waiting for you. You said you'd be back to see me again. I was hoping, being my partner and all, you'd be back to bail me out of here. " He almost sounded like a petulant child and Mike was getting a bit concerned.

"Okay now, let me defend myself before you rip off my head. First of all, I don't think even the Captain could've bailed you out in the state you were in and secondly, I rang last night and was told not to disturb you. You were fast asleep and needed your rest. I certainly needed a bit of sleep last night, myself." Mike scrutinised Steve's face for any signs of him relenting and was not disappointed. Steve looked at him with a slightly sheepish expression on his face.

"Sorry, Mike. I forgot that you were with me the previous night or was I dreaming? I guess I'm still a bit loopy…"

"I was and you are. But let's forget about it. As for siding with the enemy…"

"You only want what is good for me. I know, I know!" Steve finished the sentence for his mentor.

Mike was glad that Steve was more like himself now. The door opened again and a different nurse entered with a breakfast tray. "Cindy told me you had a visitor and that maybe you would feel more comfortable getting help from someone you are familiar with." She dumped the tray unceremoniously and left the room in a hurry.

"Boy, oh boy, what's your beef with all these lovely ladies here? I thought you'd lap up the attention!" Mike was surprised. He cut the toast into fingers and heaped some scrambled egg on it with the fork. "How high can you lift your right arm today?" he asked.

"Not high enough." Steve was frustrated, but took a bite of the toast that his mentor had put right in front of his mouth. "These so called lovely ladies are nurses, do you understand? Nurses!" He explained, in between bites. "I know you have always kept tabs on the ladies I was seeing. Have I ever dated a nurse or a doctor? Catch my drift? I would never get involved with anyone from the medical profession!"

"Have you vented enough for now?" Mike asked.

Steve nodded, still chewing.

"So try and be a bit more cooperative and I'll see how fast I can get you out of here. But you have to appear to be rational, at least as long as the doctors or nurses are around."

Steve nodded again, contritely.

"I'll admit it, Mike, I'm not quite myself. I don't know what's come over me."

"You've had a tough time and nobody gets nicer when they're in pain." Mike placed the empty plate back on the tray. "Shall I get you another cup of coffee? I'm sure _my_ charm will work with the nurses." With a wink, he stood up and headed for the door.

"No Mike, don't go!" Steve pleaded and then checked himself. "I mean, don't bother, I'm fine, I don't need more coffee…"

Then it dawned on Mike and he began to understand Steve's strange behaviour. He sat down again and took Steve's good hand in his. "Steve, do you remember more of what happened on Wednesday last night?"

Steve nodded. "I think I do. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what was real and what was a dream." He looked up and searched Mike's eyes. "Where was I when you found me?"

"You were handcuffed to a tree. "

"I sort of remembered that. How long was I there?" Steve appeared to be lost in thought.

So here was the question that Mike had been dreading to answer all along. "Around twenty-four hours. Steve, I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say…" the older man's voice broke.

Steve looked at his mentor, wide eyed.

"I've let you down…" Mike almost choked on the words.

"No, Mike, you weren't the one who cuffed me to a tree and left me there to die. _You_ didn't let me down! You found me and I'm sure glad you did."

"But I wasn't there when you needed me. I should've tried harder and found you sooner. I _did _let you down!" Mike objected.

"Please, don't blame yourself. Of course you came as fast as you could. Besides, it wasn't really that bad, you know, I think I was out of it for most of the time after I got hit over the head with the barrel of your gun…" Steve's voice petered out when he saw the grim expression on his mentor's face. "Mike?"

"You're some guy, buddy boy, do you know that? Going through this and then you try and comfort me…" Mike's voice was thick with emotion.

Steve looked at him with a crooked smile. "That's what partners are for, right?"

Mike patted the young man's cheek, as he tried to get his feelings of anger, guilt and gratitude, under control before they threatened to drown him. "You could do with a shave. Do you want my help or would you rather have one of the lovely ladies in white assist you?"

Steve grinned. "Given the choice, I'd feel more confident getting a shave from someone who has years of practise…"

"Just as well I packed an overnight bag for you this morning!" Mike got up from the bed where he had been sitting and went to retrieve the travel bag he had deposited near the door when he first came in. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a reflection of light on the wall, like from a mirror or a lens… or from the scope of a rifle.

"Steve!" he yelled and jumped on the bed, his sudden movement propelling both of them on the floor when two shots rang out in rapid succession …


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **Thanks to everybody for reading and reviewing. I didn't want to leave you with the cliffie for too long, but the next installment might take a little bit longer._

_**Chapter 7**_

The silence after the gunshots was almost oppressive. Mike thought that his heart beat and Steve's laboured breathing must be loud enough to be heard in the room next door. Steve groaned and wriggled uncomfortable under Mike's shielding body.

"Are you alright? Were you hit?" Mike was concerned, but didn't dare to change his position just yet.

Steve groaned again. "I'm alright, but you've landed on my bad shoulder."

Mike shifted his body slightly and as gently as he could, pushed Steve under the bed. "Don't move, okay?" He reached out and patted Steve's arm.

In the meantime the door opened and Clint, the policeman on guard duty, stuck his head in. "Reinforcements' on the way. The building across the road is probably where the sniper is hiding out. You guys okay?"

Mike grunted an affirmative and asked Clint to keep the doctor and nurse out of the room for the time being. "Don't let anyone enter the hospital until the building across from us gets a complete sweep." Then he turned to Steve. "I'm really sorry, but you'll have to stay put for a little while longer. Are you okay? You sure you're not hurt?"

Steve was still breathing hard and Mike could tell he was in pain. A feeling of fury and helplessness nearly overwhelmed him. Once more, the killer had been a step ahead of him and almost gotten to Steve again. And there he was, taking cover rather than going after the sniper. After what seemed like an eternity, Clint came back with the all clear and all of a sudden the room was filled with hospital staff and police. Steve was helped out from under the bed and he and Mike were escorted to a different room.

While the doctor and a nurse were busy repairing the worst of the damage done to the stitches, Mike would not budge from Steve's side, and not even Rudy Olson could shift him. He insisted on staying while the doctor administered an ice spray instead of a local anaesthetic. "Believe me, the injection with the anaesthetic will hurt you more than the two little stitches! The cold will numb the area enough to make it quite bearable," the doctor assured and stitched in the two sutures that had burst, when Steve had hit the floor. _Or when I landed on top of him!_ Grim thoughts went through Mike's head. _I couldn't find him fast enough and now I can't keep him safe_. Every time Steve flinched, Mike felt as if the needle pierced his flesh, too.

It wasn't until Steve was settled in a different room that they were given the opportunity to talk.

"Mike, I'm afraid we were too late. The sniper must have just fired two shots then upped and left immediately. As we speak a forensic team is scouring the building," Rudy explained.

Mike had expected nothing else. He knew he was dealing with a dangerous enemy, an enemy who was ruthless and clever and had the support of the mob at his fingertips. "Rudy, we have to find a safe place for Steve."

Steve looked up, puzzled. "But Mike…"

Mike's expression was stern. "No buts, just do what we say."

"You don't understand!" he interrupted.

"I understand very well that Ianelli is after you." Mike would hear no more objections.

Steve was getting agitated and his voice grew louder: "No, you don't understand! Will you just listen to me?" The urgency in his tone stopped Mike's rant. "Mike, did you look at the bullet holes? The sniper aimed at you. If I am in danger, so are you. For Ianelli you are as much of a liability as I am!" Steve sank back into the pillows, completely exhausted after the outburst.

Mike and Olson exchanged a look.

"The kid is right, Mike. Ianelli doesn't know that neither of you actually remembers his new look."

"So what do you suggest, Rudy? Run an ad in the papers where we formally state that we do not recognise him and maybe he will leave us alone?" There was more than a hint of bitterness in Mike's voice.

"No need to be sarcastic, Mike, but you and Steve have to go to a safe location until we get our hands on Angelo. I'll talk to the doctor and see how fast they can release Steve. There are too many people in the hospital and then there's the windows…" Olson eyed one particular window with suspicion, even though it faced the service yard of the hospital and the blinds were closed.

Mike sighed. "And Rudy, how do you propose we get our hands on Ianelli?"

The Captain stopped in his tracks. "To be honest, Mike, I haven't really thought that far."

"That's the problem, Rudy, that's the problem. Our man keeps us so busy that all we can do is react and we don't get a chance to take action ourselves. As long as he calls the shots, we will never get near him. It's time to rattle his cool."

"What's your plan?"

"Well, how about we hold and fingerprint everybody who attends Ma Ianelli's funeral?" Mike suggested with an evil grin. "We'd have him straight away."

Rudy was aghast. "Mike, you know we can't do that!"

"Mike, not at his mother's funeral!" Steve seemed equally horrified.

"You're too soft, both of you. If you think arresting everybody at the funeral is a bit extreme, how about we hold and fingerprint everybody who wears gloves?"

"There must be another solution. We'll never get away with an action like that."

Mike sighed again, exasperated. "I suppose it will be okay to visit the mourning daughter- in- law and pay my respects? I think they are having the visitation today."

Steve looked very uncomfortable at the prospect.

"Buddy boy, I promise I'll be right back after that short visit and then you and I will hole up in a safe house until our man makes the next move, but then we will be prepared. Are you with me on this?"

Steve nodded, though not convinced. "Just one thing Mike. You can't go on your own."

"He won't, I'll go with him and make sure he doesn't step too far out of line," Olson assured. "First, we just need to step up security for you."

The door opened again and three heads turned in unison as Haseejian, the big Armenian detective, entered the room.

"Uncle Norm will take care of that. I'm off duty now and had planned on visiting the infirm as a work of charity, so I might as well throw in a bit of protection for free. You two go on while I catch up with Steve here. I'm sure we have a lot of interesting vacation stories to swap."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

Rudy Olson was quite concerned about his most senior detective when they made their way down to the parking lot. It was obvious that Mike was under extreme pressure and the Captain wasn't sure how well he was coping with it. He was also only too aware that Mike had sustained a head injury and didn't give himself enough time to recover properly. He held out his hand. "I'll drive and you try and relax for a few minutes."

Mike stopped for a second to pat his pockets for the key when at that very moment a dark coloured car raced past and missed him by mere inches. He and Rudy watched the speeding car leave the parking lot, turning onto the main road with squealing tyres. _If he had kept on walking…_

"That was a bit too close for comfort, my friend." Rudy let out a deep breath.

"Did you get the registration?" Mike, who seemed rather unperturbed, asked.

Rudy shook his head. "It all went too fast. But Mike, Steve is definitely right, Ianelli is after you, too."

Mike shrugged, although deep down he knew his colleagues were right, but he felt he had no time to worry about his own safety. There were much more pressing matters to be dealt with!

Before they entered the Funeral Parlour, where Mrs Ianelli Senior was lying in state, the two men quickly decided on their next plan of action.

* * *

The candlelit chapel was quiet; several groups of mourners were seated on the pews or stood huddled in the corners. The smell of the lilies placed in vases all over the oratory was cloying and added to the general claustrophobic feel.

Mike recognised a few of the men from previous investigations but he first went over to the grieving daughter-in-law, Ianelli's widow. She and Ianelli's sister, both dressed in black, were sitting closest to the coffin. He held out his hand and mumbled a few phrases of condolence.

Maria Ianelli looked up, the polite expression on her face grew wary. "Thank you for coming, Lieutenant. Your presence is certainly a great honour for the family, but I am a little surprised…"

Mike smiled sweetly. "Oh, I may have some very good news for you, some great comfort in your bereavement. You know, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh and all that, but the Lord seems to have taken first and now given back. Mrs Ianelli, your husband seems to have miraculously risen from the dead!" He never took his eyes off her face, trying to read her expression. _Definitely flustered and rattled, but not surprised, at least not pleasantly surprised…_

"You must be mistaken, Lieutenant! We buried my husband almost two years ago." She dabbed at her eyes with a small lace handkerchief.

"Fingerprints don't lie. Your husband's prints have been found at a crime scene on Wednesday. I'm afraid that he hasn't come back as a better person!"

"This is no place for disrespect and jokes, Lieutenant!" the sister interrupted harshly. "My brother is dead and here lies my dear mother in her coffin…"

Mike smiled again. "I certainly didn't mean to offend you ladies. I thought the news of Angelo Ianelli's reappearance would fill you with joy and help you with your grief. It seems I was mistaken and must apologise. I will leave in a minute but first I'd just like to catch up with some old friends here and make some new acquaintances."

The two women in black turned away from him and huddled together, whispering frantically. _Like two black spiders,_ Mike thought. He turned his back on the two conspirators and took a tour of the room, but didn't even attempt to talk to anyone he recognised. He concentrated on offering his calling card to every unfamiliar male around forty. After his intended prey had handled the card, he took it back, scribbled some letters on the reverse side, carefully inserted it in a small evidence bag and popped it back in his wallet. Then he approached his next target with a fresh card and an innocent smile.

After he had completed his round, Mike waved goodbye to the two main mourners, who were watching him suspiciously. Rudy Olson was waiting for him outside the building near the car.

"One guy left through the back door the moment you walked in. We've got a tail on him already. Sunglasses, gloves, it could have been our man!" Rudy filled Mike in on what had happened.

"I've got fingerprints from almost everybody in there I didn't know. I need to get the calling cards I used labelled a bit better before I mix them all up!" He jotted down a few distinguishing features of every person on a piece of paper that he put in the evidence bags as well.

"Now, let's head for the bureau and let the lab work on this," Mike proposed. "If we have a hit I will be good to help our sketch artist with a picture."

"Or maybe we'll find a reason to fingerprint the guy who tried to get away. If we are lucky he'll run a red light and we can bring him in…." Olson added with a dreamy expression on his face.

Mike laughed out loud. "Who's bending the rules now? Arrest and fingerprint a man for running a light?"

"I'm just learning from you!" the Captain smirked.

Both men were in much better spirits as they were heading for Bryant Street. There was a lead at last, some possible suspects. Mike even allowed himself to lean back and close his eyes for a moment…

* * *

Things still looked positive when they arrived at Homicide. Rudy quickly filled in the men on the latest developments, and then he sent someone down to the Lab with Mike's stash of evidence bags. In the meantime Mike went through the messages on his desk quickly and then made a phone call to the hospital to inquire about Steve.

"What do you mean, _has been_ released?" he shouted and slammed down the handset.

"Mike, Mike! Listen to me, he has been released and brought to a safe location where you will join him as soon as we are finished here. I organised it all = while you were hassling the mourners in the Funeral Parlour," Olson clarified

Mike let out a sigh of relief. "I wish you had told me that before, Rudy. The fright I got must have knocked off at least two years of my life expectancy. You know the young hothead, he might just go off and try and play bait for Ianelli!"

"I know, Mike, that's why I sent Haseejian with him, until you take over. Are you happy now? Norm is more than able for the kid."

"I suppose so…" Mike picked up a stack of photos, the result of the surveillance of the Funeral Parlour - and shuffled through them absentmindedly. He put them in an envelope and reminded himself to show them to Steve later on. Maybe one of the faces would jog his memory. He also made a mental note to bring Steve's gun that he had left in the office for the length of his downtime. _He won't be using it while his shoulder is stiff and I'll need a gun until I get mine back…_

He was torn between staying on in the office until he got the results of the fingerprints and heading off to join Steve. In spite of all the security measures in place, Mike still felt that there was a threat to Steve. Dealing with the mob was like dealing with a Hydra, for every head you chopped off, another two grew back…

Mike was awoken from his reverie by Olson's loud bark, "You what? You lost them?"

Mike sighed; this could only mean one thing: the guy they assumed was Ianelli had shaken off his tail and disappeared into thin air again. He was almost positive now that the fingerprints he had so resourcefully procured would yield nothing. He might as well pack an overnight bag and join Steve for the rest of the day.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

Joining Steve was not as easy as Mike had thought it would be. Bill Tanner, who was in charge of "Project Stone" as he called it, had an elaborate plan to shake off a possible tail. When Mike went home on his own to pack his bag, he was closely observed the entire time by two units in unmarked cars. Then he followed Bill's instructions and smiled. _He must have been very fond of adventure stories as a kid_, he thought and stepped into the cab driven by a police officer that was supposed to bring him to the Bus Depot. If it were only his own safety that depended on the plan, he would have refused to cooperate, but it was Steve's life that was at risk too. _And Steve is in no condition yet to defend himself…_

Mike was confident that nobody could have possibly followed him when he finally reached his destination, a Hotel not too far from SFPD, actually. He noted with a certain satisfaction, that the place was bit more upmarket than he had expected. There was a realistic chance that they would be reasonably comfortable until they could put a positive ID on Ianelli, which he hoped would be at the funeral at the latest.

He knocked on the door - three quick raps, pause, and another rap. He smiled again. _Must ask Bill where he got _that_ idea from…_

The door opened and Norm Haseejian, beckoned Mike to come in and be quiet. He pointed at Steve, fast asleep on the bed in the corner. "Let him sleep. I think I've tired him out - or bored him senseless - with my stories from my vacation in Hawaii," He whispered.

"Is he alright?" Mike asked, concerned.

"Sure, he's just fine. By the way, the kid comes complete with an instruction manual. The hospital sent a whole pile of notes on what to do and what not to do. I've given him his pain killers earlier on, although he's refused to eat so far."

Mike looked at the burly Sergeant, his eyes filled with nothing but respect. "How did you manage that?"

"That was easy, Mike. He knows you only too well and knows your threats are empty, the worst you'd ever do is pinch his cheek or something like that. With me, on the other hand, he is not quite sure how far I would go!"

Mike joined in the laughter, but noted with a certain satisfaction that Steve was still wearing the hospital issue gown and pyjama bottoms. _Obviously he had held firm enough to have refused to let Norm dress and feed him…_

"Before I go, Mike, do you want me to organise some food for the two of you? What do you think the kid would eat?"

Steve began to stir and answered sleepily: "I'd eat a dead horse, as long as it doesn't come with spaghetti sauce. Bad enough needing help with eating, but I draw the line at getting my chin wiped." He looked around with bleary eyes but his face lit up when he saw Mike. "Hi Mike! You said you'd be back soon and look at the time now!"

Norm smirked. "Such accusations you would expect from a wife, but not from a subordinate. I'd better head off, and by the way a "_Thank you Norm for spending your afternoon off babysitting me"_ would have been nice! See you tomorrow!" he winked at Steve.

Mike slipped him some money and suggested steak and fries for dinner. "Nothing gooey and dripping there, as long as you hold the ketchup!"

While they were waiting for the meal to arrive, Mike made a few phone calls and filled Steve in on the latest developments. His face was grim by the time he had finished.

"As I suspected, Ianelli must have been the guy who left through the back door, because none of the fingerprints I got at the Funeral Parlour were his. The car he used was a rental, rented by one of his cousins and reported stolen. And now, to add insult to injury, he used my .38 to shoot the dentist!"

In spite of himself Mike burst out laughing. "Just as well I have a watertight alibi: in hospital under sedation…"

At dinner Steve was delighted that with some help from Mike to cut the meat and spear it on a fork, he could lift his arm just high enough to reach his mouth, if he bent his head down as far as anatomically possible. And he only needed his chin wiped, twice!

After dinner Mike suggested some necessary maintenance work, as he called it, and finally got the chance to help Steve with the shave he had promised him in the morning.

"Now, how about we try and put on a T-Shirt so you can wear the sling over it," Mike suggested and took a white T shirt out of the bag he had packed what seemed like years ago. Steve was doubtful about the procedure but Mike reassured him. "Look, I got you a granddad shirt with some buttons!" Steve had to admit that the material of the sling was beginning to chafe the skin and Mike seemed to know what he was doing.

"Now, that wasn't too bad, was it? Better than having your back exposed all the time, right?" Mike comforted the patient.

Steve nodded, glad that the ordeal was over - at least until the next bath. "I suppose we can start our pyjama party now?" he tried in an attempt to hide his embarrassment and frustration over being dependant on Mike's help with almost everything.

"Is that what you want, a pyjama party? With or without a pillow fight?" Mike lobbed a pillow at Steve that hit him square in the face.

"That's not fair; you're taking advantage of me. You know I can't throw it back!" Steve protested, spluttering with laughter; with minimal arm movement he tossed the pillow on his foot and kicked it back towards Mike who caught it mid-air.

"I must admit you are a bit handicapped, maybe we'll leave it for some other time." Mike threw the pillow back gently. "Besides, I wanted you to have the extra pillow; you might need it to prop up your arm."

Mike helped Steve settle more comfortably in the bed and then proceeded to unpack Steve's bag. "We might be here for a day or two, so we should start to get organised. And don't think just because you have a stiff shoulder I'm going to tidy up after you!" Mike joked. He stopped as he came across an unfamiliar object, a small cellophane bag that he certainly hadn't put there…. "Did Norm give you this?" he asked suspiciously.

Steve nodded.

Mike shook his head in disbelieve. "What was he thinking of? How are you supposed to shell those sunflower seeds? It takes you two hands to prise them open at the best of times." He looked at his partner, expecting some smart remark back, but Steve was silent. He looked at his mentor wide eyed and ghastly pale.

Mike rushed over and put a hand on Steve's good shoulder. "Buddy boy, are you alright? Are you in pain?"

Steve kept staring at Mike who was still holding the bag of sunflower seeds. "Mike!" He stammered. "It's the sunflower seeds. Do you remember the way Ianelli used to crack them? Held a shell between two fingers and somehow got the seed out with his teeth?" Mike nodded silently. He remembered well, only too well, because he had teased Steve a lot over how awkward and messy he appeared in comparison to Ianelli's smooth action.

"Now, Steve, tell me exactly what you remember!"

The young man took a moment to collect his thoughts, and then he began, "You know, I took a break in this little roadside café. While I was having my coffee, I spotted this guy in the phone booth because he littered the place with the shells of sunflower seeds." He grinned. "I was actually thinking of what you would say and then I noticed the way he opened them and I remembered Ianelli. All of a sudden I noticed some other similarities with the Fallen Angel, not the face, but the posture, the gait…" he looked at Mike.

"Go on, that makes perfect sense, I know exactly what you mean!" Mike encouraged.

"I wasn't sure, of course, but I decided to follow him on a hunch." He smiled crookedly. "I had nothing better to do, anyhow. As luck would have it, he stopped again soon after, in Walnut Creek, to make another phone call. I don't think he got a reply earlier on. The more I watched him, the more I was convinced it was Ianelli; his body language while he was talking on the phone, a glimpse of his eyes when he took his shades off. I remembered how we used to say he had reptilian eyes. But I felt I needed your opinion before I jumped in head first."

"Well, Buddy Boy, you cracked his disguise like a sunflower seed, no you did it with more skill than you'd ever crack your bird feed." Mike ruffled Steve's hair affectionately.

"But Mike…. I'm still not sure if I can pick him out among the mourners at the funeral! Every time I try and remember the face, I just get a headache!" Steve was dismayed how his memory failed him.

"I'm sure Lenny would have a lot to say about that, but don't you worry about it for now. Trust me, my boy, I have a plan!"

Steve smiled and asked. "A cunning plan?"

"Extremely devious and cunning! Just wait 'til I tell you and you will be blown away!"


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N:** __Thank you all for reading and reviewing and thanks to Tanith 2011 for her great Beta reading. The story is coming to a close, I will try and upload the epilogue over the next few days._

_**Chapter 10**_

As Mike had suspected nothing conclusive happened until the day of the funeral. A few more cousins and business associates who had been hanging around the Funeral Parlour and the Ianelli residence had been positively identified and ruled out, but the Fallen Angel himself seemed to have vanished into thin air again.

"And what if he is not there?" Steve asked, squirming under Mike's hands that were busily fixing his tie for him. "Hey, don't pull it so tight, you're strangling me!"

"I don't know how anyone can tie a decent knot with these wide ties!" Mike grumbled but obligingly loosened the knot. He felt a bit guilty that he had forgotten about the black and blue bruise that still spread round Steve's neck. "Of course he'll be at the funeral. It's his mother, after all!" Mike tried to reassure Steve, though he was as nervous as the younger man, who was pacing the hotel room. "Will you stop that and just settle down! We'll be leaving in half an hour. Enough time for a cup of coffee." Mike knew that Steve would fall for the ploy and show off his newly rediscovered skill of lifting a cup to his lips. Although the right shoulder was much more mobile now, the left shoulder would remain out of action for another couple of weeks. Again, Mike felt an overpowering desire to get hold of Ianelli who had caused all the pain and mental anguish to the man he loved like a son.

Mike and Steve were not the only members of SFPD who attended the funeral of Rosa Ianelli. Another six plain clothes detectives were observing all exits, while Mike and Steve were on the gallery upstairs. Steve shook his head. "I'm really sorry, but I can't spot him, Mike."

"Don't worry, Buddy Boy. We'll get him at the reception later on. I never really expected to make an arrest in the church."

Steve looked at him with some doubt. He felt uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, with the whole situation. He knew that his present fitness levels left much to be desired, one arm in a sling, the other shoulder still quite stiff and painful. He wasn't even able to carry a gun! Then he was extremely apprehensive about recognising Ianelli at all. Unfortunately a lot of Mike's plan depended on just that. What worried him the most though, was Mike himself. Mike was determined to get Ianelli, no matter how. Steve understood that this was his partner's way of dealing with what had happened to him, but he didn't like it one bit. Mike was like a pressure cooker ready to blow a gasket and Steve didn't know if he would be able to deal with it. He shifted uncomfortably in the pew. Mike's behaviour was so out of character. For the first time ever, he didn't seem to realise they were in a church and Mass was in progress. Steve knew well that his friend was a practising Catholic. He pulled at Mike's sleeve with his good hand. "Mike, maybe we should go and secure a spot with a good view at the grave," He suggested.

Mike agreed and they went ahead, so that they could see the funeral procession moving along. "As a good Italian son, he should be one of the pall bearers. I wonder if he has got the neck to do it…" Mike thought out loud.

"But Mike, we couldn't really do anything at the grave side either…" Steve put it to Mike.

"Can we not?" the Lieutenant replied, dangerously calm. "Did he give any consideration to decency when he chained you to the tree?"

Steve sighed. As he had feared all along, this was going to be personal…

He kept quiet and considered keeping mum for the time being if he recognised Ianelli, but it was a moot point, nothing about the gait or posture of any of the pall bearers or mourners struck a chord with him. He shook his head and looked at Mike. "Sorry… they are all walking so unnaturally stiff, like soldiers at a parade."

Mike patted his arm. "Don't worry, they will all loosen up and move normally at the reception in the church hall."

Oh yes, the church hall, where Mike's "cunning plan" was supposed to spring into action…

The caterers had just left; the big church hall was decked out for the social occasion. There was a buffet with finger food, bowls of nibbles and drinks liberally distributed on every small table and on all the window sills. Alf, the elderly caretaker who had known Mike Stone for a long time, had readily agreed to do him a little favour, even though it meant sweeping up a lot of sunflower seed shells after the reception. "_Ah well, if he thinks an Italian get-together after a funeral needs sunflower seeds… Who am I to deny the people their little taste of home_!" he thought and smiled fondly, when he remembered how his mother had insisted on a German speciality, plaited sweet bread, for his grandfather's funeral when he was a child. "_I would have never thought Mike cared so much about the Ianelli family…_" He put the last bowl down and left the room, very pleased with a job well done.

Fifteen minutes later the room had filled up, and within half an hour spirits were high, there was laughter and chatter going on, everybody tucked into the food provided and the bar was well frequented.

Mike and Steve stood in a corner where they had a reasonably good view over the whole hall. Mike noticed how pale and tense his young partner looked and felt awful that he had to put him through this. He noticed that Steve's eyes were glued to a man in his forties, talking animatedly to one of the cousins. He had a bowl of sunflower seeds in one hand while he deftly opened them in rapid succession with the other..

Mike didn't need to hear Steve's breathless: "That's him, Mike! I'm absolutely sure!" He had recognised the Fallen Angel at the very same moment. How could he not have remembered? It all came back in a flash:

_The cold face of the man who tightened the chain around Steve's neck while Mike listened helplessly to Steve's ragged breathing. The blinding crash when he steered the car off the road to distract Ianelli and give Steve a chance to break free. The split second when he was out cold, which gave Ianelli enough time to drag Steve out of the car. Then Mike's horror and bottomless rage when he saw Steve lying on the ground, his arm unnaturally twisted and Ianelli's foot resting on Steve's shoulder. The cold, mocking voice asking for Mike's gun and the handcuffs and Steve's scream, when Ianelli stepped on his shoulder. Then the impact of the gun barrel on Mike's head… and the screams he had heard over the last couple of nights, when Steve had woken up from the nightmares that were plaguing him._

Ianelli must have felt two pairs of eyes boring into him; he hurled the bowl in their direction and made for the door, Mike in hot pursuit.

All conversation in the room stopped at once, then screaming and shouting began, tables were overturned to block the way the suspect had taken and a loud wail came from Maria Ianelli. "Nooooo!"

Steve felt paralysed for a moment, then he gathered himself and ran after them as fast as he could. He felt seriously unbalanced with one arm in the sling as he had to dodge knocked over furniture. Still, it didn't take him long to catch up with the fugitive and his pursuer. Breathing hard, he inched closer. Mike had Ianelli at gunpoint and Steve was alarmed when he saw the expression on Mike's face. He barely recognised the normally friendly features and the blue eyes were like slivers of ice.

"Just give me an excuse, you scum of the earth! Leaving an injured man cuffed to a tree. How would you like to experience some of that pain yourself?" the voice sounded cold and menacing.

Ianelli barely dared to breathe, his hands were shaking.

"Mike, it's alright, I can take over now." Steve had almost reached his partner, who didn't acknowledge his presence at all.

"I'm not finished with this excuse for a human being yet. I'll pay him back for all he did to you. Eye for an eye…" Mike growled.

"Mike, didn't you tell me some time ago that all this eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth business stopped with the New Testament?" Steve alluded to a sermon he and Mike had heard together, when due to a lost bet Steve had accompanied Mike to Mass and they had discussed the homily later on. Steve, who had always had issues with some of the rather bloodthirsty and harsh readings of the Old Testament, had liked Mike's explanation that with advent of Jesus the need for revenge was overwritten.

Mike looked at him briefly without taking the gun off Ianelli, but something in his expression changed.

"I mean, there is no need, really, he'll get his just desserts here on earth soon enough!" Steve held out his hand for the .38. "My arm is good to hold the gun while you cuff him. I can't do that with one arm in a sling," He suggested calmly.

It seemed as if Mike woke up from a trance. Keeping the gun pointed at Ianelli he carefully put it in Steve's outstretched hand, guiding it in the right direction. He quickly grabbed Ianelli's arms, twisted them behind his back and slapped the cuffs on Ianelli's wrists, making sure they were tight and secure. He only gave them one furious jerk. Then he turned to Steve and said with a wink, "I think you can put the .38 away for now. We won't need it!"


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N:** We have reached the end, thank you all for following the search for missing pieces with me and for reading and reviewing. Much appreciated!_

_**Epilogue:**_

It was late in the evening by the time Mike and Steve walked out of the interrogation room. Mike waved a weary goodbye to Gerry O'Brien, the Assistant DA and steered Steve towards his office, holding him by the elbow. Although it had been a long and exhausting day there were a few things left to be done before they could both go home for the night.

The bull pen was almost empty, except for Norm Haseejian and Dan Healy who were still manning the department on the late shift. Both detectives looked up expectantly.

"We nailed him fair and square - for murder, attempted murder, assault, you name it! Gerry can make it stick. And of course there are still the charges from two years ago… Another murder most probably too… the body in his burned out house." Mike started the tale.

Norm interrupted him. "You two must be starving. I bought you some sandwiches and left them on your desk, Mike." He winked at Steve. "Nothing gooey!"

Steve nodded in appreciation but was too tired to answer.

Healy came over with two mugs filled with coffee. "We put on a fresh pot, you might need it!"

Both Mike and Steve were touched by the thoughtfulness, especially when they saw their overnight bags packed and ready in Mike's office, too, to save them a trip to the hotel.

Steve sank down on his usual chair, exhausted. Mike unwrapped a sandwich and placed it in front of the tired young man. Then he reached out and rubbed the back of Steve's neck, the way Steve himself used to do when he was stressed. Mike felt the tenseness of the muscles. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Sure, just a little tired," Steve assured.

"Have something to eat and we'll head home in a few minutes. I just need to sign these papers." Mike took a big bite out of his sandwich. Steve followed his example and chewed silently for a few minutes.

"Mike, do you understand what makes Ianelli tick?" Steve started the conversation again. He looked up and sought Mike's eyes.

"What do you mean? His cruelty?"

"Yeah, and his callousness, his arrogance. How could he think he would get away with it?"

"He almost did… He thought he had killed me by hitting me over the head. He didn't want to shoot so close to the road and attract attention. With me out of the equation…" Mike still shuddered when he thought what might have happened to Steve.

"Suppose I'm lucky you've got such a hard head!" Steve said with a suppressed grin.

Mike reached over his desk and patted Steve's cheek. "And I'm lucky you keep a cool head on your shoulders, smiley!"

Steve hesitated before he asked, "Mike you wouldn't have, would you?"

Mike grinned wickedly. "I certainly scared the shite out of him, didn't I?"

"You certainly scared the shite out of me! I think Angelo almost wet himself!" Steve started laughing hysterically.

"Don't go giddy on me now!" Mike warned sternly. "I know it was a long day and all but there is no need to…" he couldn't finish the sentence as he was now also racked by uncontrollable fits of laughter. He wiped his eyes. "I think we better go home. There is just one last thing I have to do." He tried to regain his composure but his shoulders were still shaking with suppressed merriment. He walked over to Steve's desk and started taking plastic evidence bags out of several drawers.

Steve followed him, intrigued. "What are you doing at my desk? What's in the bags?" He picked one of them up and looked at it in disbelief. "Husks of sunflower seeds?"

"Among other trash, yes! I had planned on leaving all the junk you leave in the car in your drawers, but on second thoughts…" he looked at his partner affectionately "… you shouldn't rubbish the sunflower seed, not when it certainly has its uses!" He grabbed Steve by the neck and shook him gently. "But I swear, next time it's your turn to clean out the car!"


End file.
